I want to go along innocently and

Maybe forget that I've heard all these words before from other

Men's lips.

At least you're different in a way that

Truly matters. But I'm afraid I'm just looking to be

Understood. And we

Really barely know each other...

Except it feels so right to be with you;

no matter how immature that sounds.

the ribs lose their purpose, so

the bones turn brittle,

and as they splinter,

the body suffocates, twitching

and panting, begging with a purple face,

because the lungs gift the precious air to the void,

blowing the dusty remnants of the ribs into the crevice

your brain knows the heart should be

its that time of year again when

my brain refuses to let me move.

so on my bed i lay

wondering if i even care if i turn

into a husk

here and now.

feeling inconsequential.

You dragged me to the edges of myself,

got high off the pure bliss

of gutting me.

From the inside out.

..

hours of dry heaving

tells me there's nothing left

of my insides.

You've thoroughly cleaned me out.

Yet. I still feel it.

..

The ghost of you

leaving behind traces of an unwanted

war. between us.

..

I stare at my stained clothes

at the bleach sitting beside them.

And my entire being leans towards it.

To be clean once more.

She cradles the deserts, scorch marks and blisters paint her arms.

She cries out the oceans, her eyes unseeing from the salt.

She holds the forests in her palms, tree roots piercing skin and bones.

She breathes the wind, gasping wails of pain.

She bears the mountains on her shoulders, bones crushing under solid rock.

She wears the sun upon her head, her hair catching fire.

She supports the ice in her middle, her heart frozen over within her ribcage.

She leaps from star to star, her bare feet cut and bruised from foriegn cliffs.

keep the clouds at bay

it doesn't always rain on funerals

the sun doesn't blink when i consider

the different means to my end

in broad daylight

unabashed to slice with hidden thorns

loving roses grow

sunkissed skin with no remorse

warms and dries

turns to burns

Were they really just daydreams?

Things you said, just to make me silly in the head?

I hated myself later...now

For reading between every word

listening to every breath

believing every soft whisper

smiling at every text

dreaming every night.

Forgetting that every snake slithers.

Falling upwards

into a bottomless sky

.

Breathe

.

Grabbing onto

air trying to stop

.

Breathe

.

Mouth open

in a silent scream

.

Breathe

.

Stars becoming

closer and closer and closer

.

Breathe

.

Running out

of air

.

Can't

.

.

Breathe

"Will you still be here in the morning?"

I raise my eyebrows at the elderly man sitting across from me, "Is there a reason I should be?"

"Well...You know your parents should be back--"

"I know when they'll be back, I'm the one that paid for their entire vacation. I didn't come to see them. I'll be gone before their flight even lands."

I came to see my childhood home, to see if it was what I remembered, or if it was better or warmer even. But no. It was the same house, only now filled with more exquisite decorations--decorations bought with the money I'd given them over the years without even a 'thank you' note in return.

"Linzi, you haven't seen them since you moved out... They're your parents," Kenny's wrinkled hands shake slightly from an emotion that is hidden from his soft, thoughtful face. He's what people would call a family friend, to me he's the grandpa I wish I had. And he's currently house sitting for my constantly emotionally unavailable parents.

The feeling that has always haunts my stomach thunders to life, an unexplainable anxiety. The need to leave. I've been here too long. The air is heavier and the lights are brighter. Too bright. My foot starts tapping a terrified beat.

"Try telling them that, Kenny." Even my voice is shaky. I quickly rise to my feet, and dust off the crumbs of dinner. "I need to go."

"Wait!" Kenny's old joints audibly moan as he starts to follow me up. But I'm already rushing from the dining room to the front door.

"Linzi!" He calls after me, but my expensive fur coat's draped over my shoulder, and my right hand grips my keys and phone.

When the door opens, and the cool night air sinks into my bones, a bit of the anxiety fades. I'm almost gone, almost free.

"Your bags!" Kenny calls, still in the dining room. He's stopped trying to chase after me, because this is what happens every time I stay too long.

"I'll just buy more."

I shut the door with finality; the road awaits.

I wonder where I'll go next, if anywhere will be enough to hold me for more than a couple of days. If I can ever find a place that gives me inner peace, where my soul can be put to rest.

But for now, I'll just be the journeying rich girl the media ponders and my parents ignore.